Then he saw the credential case in Miller’s trembling hand.
His face changed so fast that even the deputies standing next to him noticed. The swagger went out of his shoulders.
“That’s impossible,” he muttered. He snatched the credentials out of Miller’s hand and held them up to the fluorescent light, turning them over like he expected to find a price sticker on the back.
Before he could say another word, my phone lit up again on the booking desk. The screen showed a preview of the message from Chief Judge Brennan’s secure line, and Miller was close enough to read it.
“Amara, where are you? Call immediately. The FBI has advised that the Pell County investigation is moving today. Agents may be on the ground in Halvorsen Springs this afternoon. Please confirm you are safe and away from the sheriff’s office.”
Miller went completely white.
I finally raised my eyes to Voss.
“Sheriff,” I said, “you told me nobody was coming to save me.”
In the distance, very faint at first, sirens were approaching.
“You were right about one thing,” I said. “Someone is coming. But they aren’t coming for me.”
Voss stood frozen behind the booking desk, gripping my credentials as if he could make them disappear by staring at them long enough. Around him, the deputies traded frightened glances. The confidence was gone from their faces, and panic had taken its place.
I stayed seated with my hands still cuffed behind me and watched the man who’d threatened me a few minutes earlier fumble for something to say.
“This has to be a mistake,” he finally muttered. “Nobody told me a federal judge was in my county.”
Miller swallowed hard and glanced at the front entrance.
“Sir, those credentials are official. And that message came straight from the Chief Judge’s office.”
